


Stranded on Hog Island

by Pigalet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Amputation, Injury Recovery, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Trans Male Character, Trans Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigalet/pseuds/Pigalet
Summary: Jamison 'Junkrat' Fawkes is the best damn bomber pilot around. Lucky as sin and clever as could be. Too bad he runs out of the former and has to rely on the latter to survive on an island occupied with nothing but animals and protected by an apathetic spirit guardian who is only nursing him back to health out of obligation. More tags will be added as chapters are posted.





	Stranded on Hog Island

Down.  _ Down _ .  **_Down!_ **

 

He was being shot the fuck down. HIM. Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes was being shot down over the goddamn ocean in the middle of the night and holy fucking shit was it better than he could ever imagine. Better than the stories told to him with lips pressed to a beer can. Better than that tale that one fuckhead had bragged about while pissed out of his mind.  _ This. _ Was the single greatest moment of his life and he was going to die because of it but holy shit what a way to go. A damn burning streak across the sky like a bullet or a lit match tossed over the wide expanse of the ocean until it’s trajectory eventually dropped off and he found himself extinguished by the waves below. Down he would go, ripping and roaring into the sea where he would never be found and while that unsettled him slightly, there was always a price for greatness and he supposed being a legend kinda went with the whole ‘and he was never found’ aspect. He liked that. He liked that a lot, but that did not mean he was going to make it easy for life to chew him up and spit him out. No. He was a damn good pilot and he was going to give death the middle finger if that was the last thing he did. And so with a two hands lifting in a single fingered salute, Junkrat howled as something came loose from the plane and caused the glass of his window to pop out. Losing his screams on the wind as he let them rip for a second before he jumped into action.    
  
Salt. He tasted salt as he gnawed on his lips and jerked the steering components up trying to ease the downward plow of his plane so he did not just dive straight into the ocean. That would be bad. Really fucking bad but that did not make the task easy. Every mechanical aspect in that plane was overheating as the engine of it churned, evaporating water and spilled oil into a rush of steam that left his eyes watering and the sweat pouring down his face in rivulets. He was being burned alive. Cooked by the heat of the metal plane as it soared down, teetering on the unstable wind currents and cutting through clouds until there were no more clouds to peel through. Just air and the sound of crashing waves far below him. 

 

This is where he supposed he should say goodbye.

 

One last grand speech about how he was perhaps the bloody best pilot the air force had ever seen. No wait. He  _ was _ the best pilot they would ever see. He had been awarded medal after medal for his accomplishments and prowess while in the air delivering nothing but destruction and mayhem to his designated drop points without a single complaint. It was what he lived and apparently died for and while there were words on his tongue, something that was not a surprise to him at all because hot damn did he love to talk even while crashing down to earth so quickly the g force made his eyes water, nothing came out save for cackling laughter. The sound high and thin as his back bowed in his seat, drawing a wet peel of fabric as his sweat covered body writhed in pure excitement while the wing of his plane caught something. And at the sound of cracking of wood, Junkrat laughed harder.    
  
“Hoooooly fuck!!!” He screamed, giving himself a hard smack to the cheek as a reward before his hands flitted to the controls once more. Trying to guide himself down in the dark, a task that was made incredibly easy for him as he plowed headlong into the treeline. The resounding crack of splitting wood and the impact of the plane against the ground shook the earth and startled birds nesting in the branches in a flurry of shrieked calls and beats of their wings as they took off from the wreckage. And in the end once those birds left the area and the plane settled, not a single noise was heard from the twisted metal of the plane pinned and crushed beneath the heavy trunks of trees and branches as it lay leaking oil and gasoline into the grass. Creating a darkened halo in that man made clearing illuminated only by the trickling drip of moonlight through bent and broken branches. 

  
  


-

 

Noises at night were normal, expected even, and so for a moment the crash of tree limbs did not even draw a raised brow from the guardian as he relaxed in his shrined hut.Candles lit with a press of his fingertips as he brushed over the wicks. Stroking them to life between oversize dark fingers laced with swirling ink carved deep into his skin. Bringing light to his humble abode as he began to wind down after another day of keeping watch over his island. It was not a difficult job. The stretch of land was completely devoid of human life and boasted only creatures and vegetation as far as the eye could see and beyond that even. Stretching until the guardian could no longer reach his arms out to embrace the place that he called  _ his _ .

 

Hog Island. 

 

That was what the occasional whisper on the winds called it and while he did not truly care much for names, he snatched that one greedily. It fit perfectly. Him and his island of pigs got along just fine and if he was to be called anything, he supposed being referred to those creatures was among the highest praise. They were smart and resourceful, but never overly greedy. They understood that there was a balance that needed to be maintained, and upon reaching that thought Hog’s hand stretched out to rest along the belly of a sleeping sow curled against the side of his thigh as he relaxed on the floor. 

 

_ Hog Island. _ The thought had him easing while he began to pet over her swollen belly with a small smile only for it to be snapped out of existence upon feeling that impact as whatever had caused those branches to snap came crashing down to earth. Leaving Hog with the sinking revelation that  _ that _ was not a tree.

 

No way in hell was that a tree. He knew every goddamn tree on this island and nothing was big enough to make that sort of sound. A sharp metallic screech and thump that had him pushing up to stand. Bare feet scuffing along wood as he made his way to the door, peering in the direction of the noise with a dark narrowed gaze that had him snagging his mask to press over his face. Determined to investigate the source of the noise as he slung his kukri over his shoulder and reached for his torch, the wick of which sparked to life as he took off down the dirt path to wade through the brush and treeline. Fully prepared for whatever was the cause of the commotion. Or at least Hog had thought he was prepared until he came upon a scene that left a droplet of sweat running down the side of his face. Not because he was nervous, oh hell no, but because the tail end of that metal contraption was on  _ fire _ .

 

Thick black smoke rolled up into the night air. Blurring the edges of the treeline with sweeping swirls of nothingness that Hog had to admit would have looked rather pretty if the heat of the flames were not currently making him wish he had piled his hair on top of his head rather than resorting to his usually ponytail as it clung to the skin along his fire warmed neck and shoulders. Sticking to the sweat beading along his flesh as he came to terms with that he was seeing. A plane, one of those things he had seen just glimpses of as they soared overhead among the clouds, toppled and destroyed in front of him by a small grouping of trees. The sight was amusing. Nature once again ruled out against technology.   
  
The guardian stood there a moment as he took in the scene, tapping his sheathed kukri against his bare shoulder for a few seconds before he realized that the thing had something in it. More specifically a person. A screaming person. He had no idea how he had not noticed it before but maybe it was because it had just started making noise or some shit like that? Fuck he was not sure but it was loud and it almost had him covering his ears. Almost being the keyword because instead he shoved that torch into the ground at his feet and trotted over with the speed of a man out on a midnight stroll. There was no rush here. Whatever had happened was not his fault and at times life was cruel. Choices had been made and those consequences were at the forefront now as he approached the cockpit only for the wailing to grow fevered as the flames began to spread and the body inside began to writhe more frantically. 

 

It was..interesting. Never had he seen a human up close and yet here one was. Soaked in liquids and shivering despite the heat radiating off of the metal deathtrap. It took awhile for him to realize that the liquids were blood and when he did, he leaned against the cockpit to peer inside. Arm braced numbly against searing metal as the human struggled to free himself from the pin of his leg and arm in the twisted dashboard of his plane. Metal engulfed him on his right side where the plane was crumpled like a thin tin can. Swallowing the long bones of both limbs up to the joint  so deeply that Hog let out a low whistle and that was the moment when the man finally realized that he was not alone.    
  
A wild orange gaze met Hog’s masked face and while there was clear fear there, there was also desperation. The need to survive as he struggled in vain in his self selected prison. “O-oi.” He blubbered, sweat or maybe tears causing his eyes to go bloodshot as he offered out a shaky smile and gave another jerk to his trapped limbs. “I’m not ready to die yet. Can ya come back later?” He asked with another yank. “Would be real bloody convenient if you let me live. I’ve almost..almost got it.” The human swore up and down as the plane creaked and fire began to travel closer to the cockpit, drawing only an interested hum from Hog as he watched. Unsure if this was one of those situations where it would be better to put the creature out of its misery than to let it sit and suffer, but then again this was not his responsibility. The man was on his island, sure Hog would admit that, but that did not mean his protection extended to this unwelcome visitor. Or did it?    
  
The thought drew a pause as a few more slurred curses spilled from thin gnawed bloody lips. It would be bad karma to just let a bloke die, right? His first human. Dead as soon as it arrived. Well that would not really work, and so with a grunt Hog ducked his shoulders down and ducked down into the wreckage to grab at the human’s pinned arm to give it a harsh tug, an action that drew a pained scream from the man currently pressing his sweat slicked face against his shoulder before he began blubbering again.    
  
“Fuck me, mate. I’m gone, yeah? This is it. Wanted to go out with bang an’ all I get is a slow burn. The fuck kind of fate is this? ‘S bloody cruel is what it is. Unfair even!” He was frantic. Words spilling from his mouth a mile a minute as he tried to work through the pain with nothing but his own voice keeping him company before Hog grunted and spoke. The sound a deep rumbling husk that sparked a sudden draft of cool air to slip into the clearing with a soft ‘woosh’ around them.    
  
“You wantin’ to live?” It was a simple question, one asked with a curious tilt to that painted masked face as Hog waited for an answer. His gaze flicking back and forth between a heavy lidded swathe of orange hues to the  quickly approaching fires dancing along the edge of the pilots seat, igniting the very tips of the man’s hair now exposed and sticking up in wild directions after his writhing knocked his helmet loose.    
  
“ _ Fuck yes I want to live! Are you daft, you fuckhead? _ ” Junkrat shot back, the words hot but firm and upon searching that steely gaze for further clarity, Hog gave a pleased grunt. His first human had fight in him. He liked that. And with only a short warning, Hog unsheathed his kukri and steadied the man’s shoulder. 

 

“‘S goin’ to hurt.” Thankfully by the second chop of a blade cleaving through bone the human was out cold. Oh well. Hog  _ had _ warned him after all. 


End file.
